


As the Sky Descends

by Medikitty



Series: Memories of Mensis [2]
Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Blow Jobs, Character Study, Crossover Pairings, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Dominant Bottom, Doujun translated into BB universe, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Face-Fucking, I wouldn't consider this a ship, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mania, Manipulation, Mild Smut, Original Character(s), Pining, Possible Tentacles, Scent Kink, Self-Indulgent, its their own special treatment for each other, not romantic - Freeform, very scholarly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 16:46:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20915318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medikitty/pseuds/Medikitty
Summary: '...No, it is not love you see as he entraps me in his embrace during the minute gasps of leisure. Those doting eyes never leaving my being as I waltz into his space. They are fond, that is true. But what you witness is not a man's heart on his sleeve, it is not human-like nor is it primal. Perhaps a fanatics fascination gone feral.Though I am aware I do not shy. It is not necessary to torture a soul who fights to  sustain the  mania that consumes his mind...'Ficlets and chapter stories of Choir semi-OC Doujun and his memories in Mensis.Disclaimer: BloodBorne Doujun is a translated rendition of Sekiros Doujun.





	1. Silver Lining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My self Indulgent fic to honestly practice writing Micolash and Laurence. Please leave feedback!

"Come closer, my pupil. Yes, that's it..."

"Ah, I am s-sorry my master had—, " stammered the student, his garbs of pearlescent white fluttering around him as he was caught peering into one of the empty lecture halls. A soft chuckle resonated from the scholar who had been in the vast room mumbling to himself. 

"Oh, I have fancied a chat or few with your master...aware we aren't speaking of Laurence. Don't be shy, you are no stranger to me, my boy. The blindfold may obscure you, but I'd recognize that voice anywhere." 

Splattered hues of pink dusted along the bottom of the students blindfold, his heart thudding nervously. Dousaku was silent. _‘_ _ Why was he always silent in moments like this?’ _

Holding his nervous breath, the Choir novice entered with light footfalls nearing the vast writing table in front of the hall. The man in the dimly lit room was leaned wearily against it, the caged headpiece adorned and graceful arms crossed. Doujun felt small, even smaller when the cage towered over him with an eerie shadow. 

As soon as he was in the taller man's radius, the scholar's arms extended out and captured him with two thin yet masculine hands. A small yelp escaped Doujun as he looked up into the solemn eyes of the Headmaster of Mensis. They were dull in violent contrast to glitters of varying luminous blues that sparkled in them during his academic lectures. They conveyed a slate hue like the ominous clouds that rolled in just before a dreadful storm.

"Let me see them, Doujun," He spoke lowly, a distant yearning lingered in his airy tone. The student remained frozen in place, allowing the other to release his grasp only to hook his thumbs underneath the blindfold. A gentle tug and a thud on the gritty floor, the blindfold was peeled away as the hat. Only glistening silver eyes looked up into the cerulean pair, soft taupe freckles speckling the ridge of his nose. 

"Very swell, my pupil. Obedient as ever" he cooed, a thumb trailing along a warm cheekbone adding wistfully under his breath, "Spectacular spectacle..."

"I lay sleepless, pondering the prayers I hear, hours longing to wander amongst those in the Kosmos. Why do I ache for such long strides when my answers reside here?"

The enticing feeling of being drawn to the scholar's words had the student taken. Unaware of how close he was lured into the professor, his chest more or less pressed against the other's frame. The only description that came to mind was like being strung up; similar to a marionette, gliding without a conscious to the lulling tune the puppeteer heard in his brilliant mind. 

  
  


"You have been granted not one but two pairs of eyes! They glisten, oh how I yearn to see these when you are in my studies amongst others. That glint of red in your bladed eye. Oh, how the gods have gratified me with such a gift!"

  
  


Doujun felt a tightness in his chest to the swirling adoration, the pit of his stomach churned uneasily. It made him feel smothered, suffocating under the scholar’s fanatical paroxysms. Between the studies in the Upper Cathedral Ward and Mensis, it was only when he was gone for a while having to assist in the lower wards or when a ritual had gone awry that the Headmaster would fall into these frenzied hysterics.

They never lasted long, but their unpredictability in both action and demeanor could be terrifying. Especially when the topic would wind up involving him, a small, fragile pupil who wished only to study and understand the celestial kin and creatures the gods befallen onto the world. The words— concepts were confusing, letting on just enough for theories but pulling away right before a conclusion could be drawn. Only a handful of times had he inquired on the fixation only to have it swiftly evaded or answered vaguely in terms of fundamental attraction. Clever as the man was, his usual impassioned behavior made his lies almost transparent. It was a wonder how he was managing to keep the Scholar of the Healing Church unaware about keeping a student of the Choir in Mensis as much as his abilities could.

“Mi— ehm, Professor...had I missed a ritual? You bear jaded shadows along your eyes…” The student spoke in a gentle yet woeful manner, his eyes tearing themselves away to look down passively. Silence shrouded the room, only the muffled footsteps of passing students outside echoing. The hand that caressed his cheek moved to rest along his neck, fingertips trembling ever so slightly. Doujun could hear his own throbbing heart pulsating in his ears, his nerves pounding against his senses.

Holding his breath the Choir pupil stepped forward, closing any vacant space with his forehead leaned cautiously into the layers of fabric just below the elder's collarbones. Gradually he released the air in his lungs, soulful eyes closing as he inhaled the distinct aroma of leather-bound books and valerian. There were other scents but these two he warmed to, a hidden smile burying itself. 

  
  


The frozen intensity was habitual, a stagnated consolation that the grand scholar was still human— whether he liked it or not. The gentle grasps on him were removed, the sound of iron softly dropping onto wood. Gingerly a palm slinked around his back, the other scoping upward to immerse itself into the silky ashen strands. Umber tresses tumbled downward as Micolash lolled his head until his crooked nose nestled into the crook of his pupil's neck. The Choir student relaxed as the grasp around him tightened, combatting the violent tremors that quaked the scholars being. 

“Ah, as I presumed…” Doujun murmured sweetly, tilting his head so his fond words were heard. His freckled nose tickled as it nuzzled the unruly curls. 

“Shall we make our way to your office, Headmaster? Perhaps the grand library will be preferable, finding solace is always granted there.” He continued gently to coo soothingly to regain his master's composure until he could fall apart into a place of solitude. 

  
  


_ ‘So fragile when the charade fades, as the shackles of insights knowledge teeters the man between stability and cataclysm.’ _


	2. Give and Take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh-oh! Well, what do we have here?" Rolled out a resonant purr. Silver eyes shot open petrified as Doujun jumped to the unexpected voice. Head jolting up, he looked to the doorway, face crimson and hair askew in his ribboned ponytail from whipping his head around to stare at the voice's location.
> 
> The man remained leaned against the doorframe with a bemused chuckled reverberating in his throat. Brown vest unbuttoned, the cravat around his neck was undone hanging loosely. It went hand in hand with the disheveled and stained button-down shirt.
> 
> Pupils constricted to pinpoints, all Doujun saw were pools of blue; similar to a painting of a starry sky, glimmers of ice across the room from him. Dark curls hung in the man's face that cast an eerie shadow on his worn features before he added, "it is quite late to have a student...Ah, let alone one not in proper uniform...to visit at such hours. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedback~ <3 I really just am using Doujun as a puppet to practice writing micolash.

"Mmmmn?"   
  
The minute sound of confusion felt as though it echoed around the vast room. There was a small creature that stirred underneath a wooden chair as it was roused from its slumber.   
  
"Erze...?" He mumbled before looking around the dimly lit room. Scattered thesis papers across the floorboards, two plush chairs in front of an enormous writing desk. Luminous eyes of silver narrowed at the contents of the desk and a chill ran down his spine, was the hunt happening tonight?   
  
What the student's eyes gazed upon was an abandoned robe, tossed onto the desk like whoever abandoned it there was in a hurry. Nibbling at his bottom lip, Doujun stepped gingerly towards the desk. His footfalls clicked against the floor delicately until he halted in front of the table. With black-clad gloves, a hand shakily reached out to grasp the robe, dragging it towards him. Holding it with both hands, his thumbs ran along the tattered fabrics. So worn they were soft, at least what he could conclude if it did belong to who he was thinking of. The symbol on the breast was battered and frayed, but it was clear it was an emblem of Byrgenwerth. His fingers subconsciously dug into the cloths as his head lulled a little. His eyes cast around the room to ensure he truly was alone. With a hop he took a seat on the intricate desk, sitting with legs daggled— kicking thoughtfully.  
  
  
He held the robes close to his chest eyes closing amongst the quiet of the room. It felt tranquilizing, the scent that lingered on the clothing he clung to oblivious of his actions. The scent of valerian and lavender flowers was evident along with a pungent metallic smell, just like the sedative elixirs that were habitually used. It was hard to not grow fond of the fragrance when it greeted you with a safe embrace once consumed. That wasn't all that gently wafted into his nostrils. Parchment and the leathery scent of aged texts with a musky fragrance that tied it all together into a rather pleasant aroma to his nose.

  
Doujun's cheeks blushed to his lingering thoughts, the bite to his lower lip tightened. Elevating a leg, the Choir student propped it up on the lip of the desk. Resting his head on his knee, he hummed contently, holding the robes close as they relaxed him with the familiar fragrance.

  
The melody he didn't know where he heard it from, but it always lulled him— a safe haven. The sound was foreign certainly, nothing like the organs and woeful cries of stringed instruments here. No, this was airy, dreamlike as if wandering in a whimsical mist. Muscles easing, he nuzzled into the robes satisfied his assumption was correct when the tip of his nose greeted such soft worn material. It would be embarrassing to admit aloud, but he never realized the scholar had such a pleasant scent to his senses until now. More times than not he was too timid and lost in... well, buried in studies to even have the leisure to discover such details. A pang of shame hit him a little to his aloofness.   
  
  
  
"Oh-oh! Well, what do we have here? " Rolled out a resonant purr. Silver eyes shot open petrified as Doujun jumped to the unexpected voice. Head jolting up, he looked to the doorway, face crimson and hair askew in his ribboned ponytail from whipping his head around to stare at the voice's location.  
  
The man remained leaned against the doorframe with a bemused chuckled reverberating in his throat. Brown vest unbuttoned, the cravat around his neck was undone hanging loosely. It went hand in hand with the disheveled and stained button-down shirt.  
  
Pupils constricted to pinpoints, all Doujun saw were pools of blue; similar to a painting of a starry sky, glimmers of ice across the room from him. Dark curls hung in the man's face that cast an eerie shadow on his worn features before he added, "it is quite late to have a student... Ah, let alone one not in proper uniform... to visit at such hours. "  
  
As if on instinct a hand let go to touch his face. No blindfold... nor hat. As if reading his mind the headmaster emitted a sing-song hum, sauntering into his office to the rhythm of his own tune. It was similar to the one Doujun hummed moments ago, but with harsher jolts of octaves, like a swing dance. His skin glowed against the candlelit lanterns, sweat perspiring down his temples. '_so it is the __hunt'_ the choir student thought before speaking up finally, "I... a-ah I seemed to have forgotten them somewhere and thought here would be a start. "  
  
Doujun flinched a little, eyes fastening shut to his professor rounding in on him. He suddenly wished he could recall how he got here in the first place to get himself out, but he didn't. Only remembering hazily waking in the untidy room.  
  
"Ah! Worry not, you are quite fortunate to have a lecturer who... cares for their students as much as I! "   
  
A slender hand that was concealed behind Micolash's back revealed itself. Hoisting it high above his head with fingers holding two accessories. The exact articles missing from the Choir novice.  
  
Curiously Doujun opened his eyes to the drawled tone gawk at the articles that were his. They were set down next to him quietly as an arm caged him to keeping seated on the desk, leaning against the table, the headmaster's nose almost touching his own.  
  
"T-Thank you, Headmaster... Can I ask...? "  
  
"How did I obtain them?"

"—I recalled you left them in a laboratory lesson after class. I... happen to stumble across them while I was acquiring instruments for the ritual."   
  
"Mm... of course. I apologize for my carelessness. "  
  
"Ah?... you are aware if you wanted my attention all you had to do was ask, my pupil. " He purred looking down at the dark robes the student clutched to like a lifeline, apparently subconsciously.  
  
Steel chased after blue to regard what the taller man was referring to. Immediately his body stiffened as they landed on the garments that were clearly not his. Dark lashes shadowed his eyes, seeking frantically for an answer... for anything as the atmosphere of the room felt stagnated— suffocating. His fingers spread, dropping the clothing onto his lap, palms trembling.   
  
"You poor kindred spirit; lost only trying to be found... Oh, how my prayers have been heard! "  
  
The professor's idol hand swiped its long nimble fingers to trail along the pale jawline of the Choir student. They were gentle, the tips cool against the heated flesh it teased. Gradually, Doujun's eyes raised to satisfy the gaze of the blue labradorite pair. "Ah-hah! that's it; look into my eyes... "  
  
The dazzling hues of blues and flecks of silver, as though the cosmos were trapped whirling in his irises. It was trance-inducing, a dizzying sensation he frequently got when in such close proximity of the grand scholar. There was a tilt to his head, deft fingers clasping the porcelain chin, a thumb grazing underneath the student's bottom lip.  
  
  
Doujun remained fixated on the ever-changing blues in the heavy gaze. They looked back, lacking the zeal they usually glimmered upon engaging the youthful Choir student in his office... or anywhere he could seize him. The bags under his eyes were heavy, weary from the rite of the hunt the school took extra exertion to call upon the Great Ones.   
  
_ '...and even then he pushes beyond his limits...' _ he reflected as he took the teasing thumb into his mouth, silver irises feigned an expression of innocence.   
  
The reaction he received was a temptation to force his boldness onwards. The headmaster's brow arched with evident wonder, bemused to observe what matters his student wished to address. Soft playful suckles at the fingertip, a soft pink tongue swiping across as he mimicked his actions if they were to be directed elsewhere. leaning his head forward taking the digit fully to its knuckle, Doujun subtlety let out the quietest of mewls. A shudder quaked the Headmaster invigorating his being.   
  
"Ahah... oooh, you can be such a devious minx. Alright, I shall permit the late-night matters you wish to handle personally. Mind if I close the door? The commune shall be retiring to their corridors momentarily. It would be rude to have any disruptions regarding your urgent concerns after all... heh. " Micolash said, his voice though rough from the assumed chanting lowered an octave or two. It stirred a warmth in the student's abdomen, tongue swirling around the thumb as affirmation.   
  
"Pray to the gods Laurence doesn't cockily saunter in, solely to state his departure..." The scholar groaned as Doujun released him with a slick 'pop'. A lopsided smirk graced his face as he looked down at the choir student, porcelain palms clutching— kneading the black and maroon robe that was his. Eyes glistened up to the scholar as brightly as the choir bells, not a hint of crimson to be found aside from the young man's fevered cheeks.   
  
As if dosed with a lead elixir, the professor slowly stepped back before pivoting to make it swiftly to the door.   
  
Doujun’s stare followed after him, a faint smile playing at the corner of his rosy lips as the pair of blue reluctantly tore themselves away. There was an inkling dancing in his head in the glint that he swore he saw. He decided to keep it to himself, there were other matters he needed to tend to as he set the robe off to the side. His body stealthily slinked down off the desk, limbs folding as he straddled the floorboards while the scholar was across the room preoccupied. The pearlescent white and black robes puffed around him like a gown, the intricately laced ruffles of black pantaloons peeking out. He busied himself with removing the long soft leather gloves he wore, inattentive to the fact he was being watched. Extending his hand, he bit at two of the gloved digits, giving a small tug before it gracefully eased and began to peel off. _‘A definite negative to be fitted’_ he griped to himself. His jaw slackened so the gloved fell in his chilled pale hand.  
  
  
As palm met with leather, his eyes glanced up and suddenly halted all movement, lips parted somewhat agape. The scholar was slumped against the now locked door ogling him intriguingly, brows knitted in contemplation; his fatigued presence making him transparent as ever. "Headmaster?"   
  
A brief thought wafted through his mind that perhaps it was better to not proceed with his professor's intentions— desire.   
  
_ 'Were you not in the research hall not too long ago, Doujun? Rather novice to think of traditional means… _ _'_ muttered a low voice in his head. Doujun locked his gaze, lips pursing a little to his master's jibes. Though correct, Dousaku wasn't the one handling the aftermath. As his brain pondered, his body shifting with both hands slipping behind him to pretend it was only to smooth out the abundance of garments.   
  
  
The gloveless hand flipped a small pouch on his lower back, a gleam of maroon before it vanished into the sleeve of the leather-clad hand.   
  
_ 'Very good, my dear student. Now carry on. ' _  
  
The voice had left, Doujun could sense Dousaku had left their communion. The choir student's hands trembled slightly to the idea his master presented him with. He knew it would work...it would alleviate the lethargic feeling and perhaps even rest would be bestowed upon him. '_Oh, he is not going to be happy'_ was all ashen haired boy could think. His concerns deafened his attention.

It was but a soft pair of lips against his own that stirred the student back to the present. His eyes widened in bewilderment; he didn't hear the man skulk his way back over. Micolash was crouched onto the balls of his feet, pulled away now to stare at the startled pair of eyes beaming at him.  
  
"You know, I can not help but wonder if this is how you are during my lectures..." The scholar drawled, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly. Doujun sputtered for a moment, he hadn't figured out how to dance his way around the considerably taller man into an opportune position. "A-ah…" the student stumbled, a hot searing red surfacing across his cheeks to the sudden teasing accusation as well. His brows furrowed with eyes narrowing at the blue pair that flickered in mirth. 

  
  
“I am afraid my merits make your concerns invalid.” The student huffed, eyes downcasting to his retort, knowing that was not how one should speak to a superior. Even if the scholar roused it from him on purpose.

  
  
“Perhaps...though one could assume your influence over a scholar could just as well—“

  
  
“Rubbish! Neither of you would neglect your teachings through such swindling. ” Doujun snorted referring to Dousaku as well, following with a bemused giggle. He could hear a quiet chuckle resonate from Micolash in response. With his mind preoccupied in their banter, the student scooted closer until he was snug in between the Mensis scholar's legs. A playful smile graced his face, nibbling his plush bottom lip. The gears turning in the taller man's head were apparent with his straightening poise, formulating a witty remark to have his student bristling. 

Doujun was quicker than that as now seems like the best to execute his plan. His head dipped to trail feathery kisses along the jawline, sweet and submissive as he usually would do. Micolash enjoyed being relished, to feel in control. There were sound theories the student had regarding it, however, he couldn't care. A Bare hand tangled itself the umber curls while the gloved one fiddled with the dress shirt. A dreary sigh of languid pleasure sounded from above him. 'Swell' he thought knowing the following action was going to need to be quick. His hands scoped the man's frame whilst his lips moved to the lean neck. The taste of salt filled his tongue, sucking marks into the pale flesh— marks the scholar as reckless as he was wouldn't conceal. This with none daring to comment. As his hands crossed one another, the student managed to stealthily drop the needled vial into his cool thin hand.

  
He pressed against Micolash in a pretended fervor, the gloved hand taking into the back of his head as his face buried into the crook of his neck. A final push and he heard the scholar grunt in surprise by the strength toppling him over. Without a moment to spare the choir boy jabbed the needle through a clothed thigh, his whole body advancing against him to constrain him.  
  
The lanky frame convulsed violently, one hand clutching the choir garbed forearm, the other sinking into his back. A pained guttural sound emitted from the scholar's throat and for a brief flickering moment Doujun experienced a chill of dead fear. Nails dug into his flesh through his white grabs, the searing jolt of pain had him astonished. _ just how long had it been since he had to use one of these? _  
  
Pivoting his legs, Doujun crawled into the scholar's lap, his legs hooking around the others to restrain him better. His arms tightly wound around Micolash's neck feeling the retaliation of the scholar's body fighting against him. It wasn't long before the immediate reaction subsided, the scholar left more tired than before. His head slumped over the student's shoulder, lanky arms draped loosely around the lithe waist as he panted. Doujun supported him. The grim part was over...he merely needed to stimulate his blood flow now to jolt the curing process. 

  
  
They remained silent, the choir student wanting to say something to further his procedure. He was anxious to speak as the professor had not spoke a word, his breathing only just settling from the gasping air. The man, though fond of him was nevertheless unpredictable when he fell into a stupor. Volatile even. Silence could vary from a need for stability to the uneasy calm before a violent storm.

  
  
"P-Professor…?" He uttered quietly, hands cautiously removing themselves to reside idly on the Mensis scholar's chest. An airy laugh escaped the taller man's lips before his head flung up and looked down at the smaller student, "Ah hahhooo… the moment my mind slips, my pupil, you never fail to remind me that you are still of the church! "   
  
Doujun felt himself shrink a little, the words rolled off Micolash's tongue like a toxic haze. Silver orbs went to lower in guilt when a hand gripped his chin, seizing him to look into the bright bolt-hued eyes. He could see the bloods' healing vigor with the crackles in the blues but he knew it would take a while to recover the mind and body. 

  
  
"Such mannerisms, a respected poise to obscure the wicked purpose. Oh, moments like this you remind me of **_him._**" 


End file.
